


A Farewell in Two Nights at a Motel

by kobaltyella



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, On the Run, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kobaltyella/pseuds/kobaltyella
Summary: A small tower of wrappers and packaging sat between them after they finished eating. Wooyoung reeled the film for the next image, holding the flash button down. He captured the familiar sight of Yeosang cleaning up after him.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	A Farewell in Two Nights at a Motel

**Author's Note:**

> The year is anywhere from 1989-1999. Take your pick.

Wooyoung had the cigarettes. It was the last pack between the two of them. It felt good to have one in hand since it kept his fingers from tapping on the car door. Every time he felt like running his mouth, he'd take a puff to get some of the nerves sorted. He wasn't a dick about it, wasn't hogging them or anything. He extended his hand every now and then, but Yeosang was sheetwhite and hunched over like he was about to hurl so he pushed back on the offering every time.

The lake was so far from any city. It'd be months before they found the body, if ever with the car pulled so far into backwoods that he'd have been surprised if the place had ever been acquainted with civilization to begin with.

He looked over at Yeosang when they got out. Everything was at his pace. He held the trunk handle, held his breath as he opened it. He grimaced when the blood got on his bare hands trying to carry the body by the shoulders. Wooyoung grabbed the legs and they dumped it into the lake.

They rinsed off with lake water. Yeosang finally took the offered cigarette, the last one in the pack. He squatted on the bank, looking aimlessly at the horizon. "I'm done with this shit."

Wooyoung sat on the sandy soil of the bank, waiting for the cigarette to be passed to him. Only finally handed off to him after Yeosang asked, "What's next?" on an exhale.

"I know a detailer in a small town that owes me a favor." He smoked. "We're looking at a two hour drive. No way he'll be able to get to it today. We'll have to stay in a motel at least for a night, maybe two."

Yeosang reached out for the cigarette, smoked what was left, down to the filter. He stood when he tossed it down and ground it out in the sand. "This is so fucked."

Wooyoung beat the dirt off the back of his jeans as he stood. "It's starting to get dark. Let's get going."

Spirits were lighter without the corpse in the car, but Wooyoung supposed it was easier to breathe without carting around the big evidence. Yeosang was at least able to sit upright. He fiddled with the radio until he settled on the kind of jazz that could only get spots on public access television. It was good because it was mind numbing and dull.

Things only felt heavy when the adrenaline finally wore off. Wooyoung drove through the near black of nowhere backroads on cracked, uneven pavement. It let out dreary streetlights. Then the highway, well lit, accompanied by other cars on the road that made the drive feel a little less lonely.

It was a nothing town. There was a mechanic and detailer for those unfortunate enough to break down nearby. Several motels for weary travellers and their dates for the night. A couple of gas stations, a thrift shop, a dirt-dusted bar with boarded windows spray-painted with the word, “Closed”.

When he pulled into Hongjoong's, the office was still lit. The window was tinted, but he could make out a figure at his desk raising his head. It stood when Wooyoung got out of the car. On entering, Wooyoung didn't get too far without getting swept into a quick, friendly hug. Hongjoong pulled back, squeezed his arm and gave him a once over. "Holy shit."

"That bad?"

Hongjoong looked over at Yeosang hovering by the entrance. "You can come in."

Yeosang gestured behind him. "Actually, I'm going to walk to the convenience store and pick up some stuff.”

"Your shirt's all bloody. Here." Hongjoong pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and offered it to Yeosang. “You guys good on money?”

Yeosang nodded, throwing on and zipping up the jacket. “We’re good, thank you. I’ll be back.”

Hongjoong stood by the window when Yeosang left. "What's the damage?"

"Mostly the trunk. A little on the front seats when we sat down, very little.”

"How bad is it?"

Wooyoung shrugged. "I don't have a benchmark for this kind of thing. If I got pulled over, I’d be sweating, how about that?”

"Keys?" He handed off the keys and watched Hongjoong bring the car around to the garage. He stepped out, popped the trunk and waved Wooyoung over. "I can get this done in a day or two. I’m not too behind.”

“I figured. We’ll stay at one of the motels nearby.”

Hongjoong closed the trunk, then cast a loaded look at Wooyoung. "What happened, man?"

Wooyoung took a moment under the scrutiny. He sighed before the words came to him. “Con gone wrong.”

Normally, that look from Hongjoong would’ve made him laugh. This time it had Wooyoung mindful that he didn’t grimace. "No shit. I'm asking you what actually happened."

"Me and Yeosang were running this con for a while. I’d act as his pimp, set him up with a John, then we’d rob the guy once we got him alone.” He waited for a moment, expecting input, but Hongjoong only nodded along for Wooyoung to continue. “This guy was paranoid. I picked up on it, but like an idiot, I didn’t call it off. He pulled a knife on Yeosang before we could even get ours out.”

"So, how'd you end up with," Hongjoong patted the trunk. "This?"

"It all happened so fast. Yeosang threw all his weight into the guy. He got knocked over and cracked his head open on a rock. That was it. Just like that, he stopped moving.” Wooyoung leaned on the trunk, folding his arms. “It was close enough to town that we didn’t want to leave him there in case they found him, traced him back to us, so we took care of it.”

Hongjoong clicked his teeth. “Crazy."

"You're telling me."

They saw Yeosang as he came back into the office holding two plastic bags. Wooyoung and Hongjoong joined him, Hongjoong getting behind his desk and writing on the back of a receipt. "Here's the phone number to this place. Call me and tell me your room number so I can reach you directly when it’s all done.”

"I appreciate everything you do, really.”

"Don't mention it. Yeosang, you can keep the jacket. Wooyoung." Hongjoong went through a few filing cabinets, rifling through until he found a rumpled, greasy tee shirt. "Better than what you got right now.”

Wooyoung quickly changed into it. It felt less gross than it looked, but it still settled on his skin a bit damp for comfort. They didn't linger, only exchanged farewells for the night.

The motel was close by foot. Yeosang approached the front desk counter. "Any doubles left?"

The clerk thumbed through his book and shook his head. "Only got singles for tonight."

He glanced briefly at Wooyoung, who nodded his okay. "That's fine. Two nights, please." Yeosang laid down his license to be copied, then paid the cash up front before they got their room key.

They sat on the edge of the bed as soon as they got in, turning on the TV and flipping through channels. They ate the gas station sandwiches while they were still hot. Supposedly some kind of chicken but it tasted a little too spongy for Wooyoung to be sure.

As soon as Yeosang finished eating, he threw his trash into one of the plastic bags. "I'm going to shower."

In that time, Wooyoung reached for the bedside phone and called out to Hongjoong. A brief conversation, giving out his room number, the motel he stayed at and bidding a good night.

He kept the TV at its low volume. Even if there was something interesting on, his mind was elsewhere. He replayed how the guy handled Yeosang, jerking him around like a hostage with a knife pressed to his neck. Yeosang had gone ramrod straight. Calm, considering everything, fear contained in trembling fingers and a jaw set so tight that Wooyoung wondered if Yeosang ground his teeth. Things could’ve gone worse, all things considered. Wooyoung counted his lucky stars that they didn’t. 

When Yeosang got out, his hair was wet. He wore a cheap, thin pair of briefs. He had the other convenience store bag in hand as he came toward the bed and tossed an open pack of briefs to Wooyoung. “We’ll go to the thrift store tomorrow and pick up some new clothes.”

“You think of everything.” Wooyoung looked at the pack and pulled out a rolled up pair for himself for his shower.

Even under the spray, his mind was still in the woods. He didn’t know what the guy’s plan was. Kill Yeosang if Wooyoung approached? Make off with him? Turn the robbery around onto them? Not that it mattered, not at the end of it, where Wooyoung started trying to negotiate to de-escalate and Yeosang saw the opportunity and took it, effectively tackling the guy. He didn’t see the rock, and he was lucky that the asshole was there to cushion his fall.

He didn’t want to remember the sounds, or the look of it, or the blood. They never got a proper look at the guy’s head, and that was probably for the best. If Hongjoong found any bits back there, he trusted they’d be taken care of.

He found Yeosang had raised the volume on the television. He watched an old cartoon, one they’d seen a hundred times before because Wooyoung had distinct memories of watching the reruns over Yeosang's house as kids.

Yeosang lowered the volume when he noticed him. “That sandwich didn’t sit right with me."

Wooyoung joined him in bed. “It wasn’t great, but I feel fine.” 

“I feel awful."

"Come here." He patted his lap. Yeosang regarded him briefly with a raise of his brows, but he rested his head on his thigh. Wooyoung rubbed his stomach in slow, weighty circles.

"It's like." Though it seemed like Yeosang had more to say, he didn't continue the thought.

"It's like what?" Wooyoung slowed his hand.

"God, I don't know. It's like I can still feel the knife even though it never cut me. Still can feel where he grabbed me. I can hear the sound his head made. The look in his eyes after, just empty. I can't stop thinking about it."

Yeosang tried to sit up, but Wooyoung kept a hold on him, pulling him into a loose hug. His cheek pressed to Wooyoung's shoulder, making him look remarkably small.

"And I can't stop thinking, ‘what the fuck did I do?’" He could hear the strain that raised Yeosang's pitch, the choked sound of his tightening throat. "I didn't want to-" That was when he broke, a shaken exhale and a heave of an intake.

He pulled Yeosang in tight, face to chest, getting him wet but Wooyoung didn't care. He kissed the top of his head, earning a watery-eyed blink. With the head upraised, he kissed each cheek softly. It was Yeosang who leaned in with a salty kiss straight to Wooyoung's mouth.

When Wooyoung pulled back, Yeosang shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Whatever you need." He leaned in a bit, himself, puckering his mouth the littlest bit to signal his willingness.

Yeosang kissed him again. Something about it felt right in the moment, where all that electric thrumming under his skin had slowed down to something smooth and liquid. Where they propped each other up, a support in every sense of the word, because both of them needed it.

He focused on the parting mouth. Attuned to it, he opened his. Salty on the lips, but the touch of tongue mellowed out the taste. He was far too in the moment to care about the little voice in his head screaming at him about kissing Yeosang.

Pressed so close, he could feel Yeosang was hard. He leaned into it by shifting his weight forward, so part of his hip ground down against it. Yeosang let out a gasp.

"You want me to take care of that for you?"

Yeosang let out another breath on Wooyoung's mouth and nodded.

"Lay back." Wooyoung wasn't sure what to look at. He did look at Yeosang initially, who also looked at him, then averted his eyes to the television. It felt just as strange to turn his head over and pretend to watch TV while he felt Yeosang hot, stiff and twitching in his briefs. He flipped the waistband down, just enough to grab a hold of him in hand. He tried not to think of how long they'd been friends, tried to push that far back in his mind and jerked him steadily.

Dry, awkward, he didn't think he'd actually get him to cum with the way skin caught on skin, but Yeosang let out a hum that didn't quite sound like the ones that came before it and it dripped hot onto his arm.

"I'll be back." He gave another squeeze, one he hoped communicated reassurance, then he got up to wash his hands. No matter how long he scrubbed, he still couldn't shake that phantom heat off of his skin.

He returned with a wet hand towel for Yeosang to clean up, but he'd already fallen asleep. Wooyoung just dropped the towel on the nightstand and got back in bed.

He twiddled his thumbs waiting for sleep to come. He glanced at Yeosang, lit by the dim light of the TV. It didn't mean anything, just a need for comfort and intimacy, Wooyoung told himself. That warm feeling was just from giving a good friend a hand after a very long and difficult day.

When he woke up, it was to the door being unlocked. With the curtains drawn closed, that meant light flooded in through the doorway. It made Yeosang look blown out before the door closed and Wooyoung's eyes adjusted, seeing him with another pair of convenience store bags. More food, by the smell of it.

"Toothbrush and toothpaste. Razors, too." He dropped the one bag by Wooyoung and pulled the burritos from the other. Wooyoung made grabby hands for Yeosang's cup of coffee instead.

"The coffee tastes like shit," Yeosang warned. He handed it off to Wooyoung who agreed with a nod and a grimace after a large gulp.

"Awful." He took another sip.

Yeosang smiled. For a moment, things felt pretty good. Almost normal in a distant way. They ate together, watching an infomercial for a pasta maker. Yeosang made a comment that he wished they were eating literally anything else on screen instead of the nearly flavorless breakfast bean burrito.

They both headed out to the thrift shop. Wooyoung tried to make light of things, pulling out absurd finds to Yeosang's more distracted smiles. It wasn't getting anywhere, so they picked out the rest in silence.

For lunch, for a change, Wooyoung went out to the convenience store. Along with nachos soaked in cheese, he bought a pack of beers. Yeosang kept the beer upright between his knees. He’d already spilled a little bit on the bed, but Wooyoung pretended not to notice.

They brought the volume down on the sitcom reruns, supposedly to talk, but very little of that happened between loud chewing until Yeosang finally had something more substantial to say aside from smacking his lips between mouthfuls.

“You think you can drive me home when we get the car back?”

“Of course. Where else are we going?”

“I mean, home home. To my parents’.”

“Oh.” Wooyoung balled up the paper and the napkins and tossed everything into a plastic bag. “You sure that's what you want?”

Yeosang moved to pull his knees up, nearly knocking over his can, but he caught it in time and held it upright. He nodded when his can was stable. “I was thinking, you know, maybe it’s time I work things out with them. I can go back to school. Or join the military. Something.”

"Of course I can drive you.” He still sounded more stunned than he intended.

"You should consider- you know my parents will let you stay for a little while, they won't tell anyone as long as I come back with you. You could figure things out."

"Figure things out?" Wooyoung set his can on the nightstand, swapped it for the ashtray as he lit up his next smoke.

"You can't do this forever."

He smoked steady to keep himself calm, counting back from ten mentally. "It was one guy." As soon as he said it out loud, he cringed at himself.

That silent stretch was long and Wooyoung couldn't bear to look up when Yeosang finally spoke. "Then how many is it going to take?"

"Forget what I said."

He grabbed Wooyoung's wrist as he moved to set his smoke down on the ashtray. "Just, come back with me? Break the lease, who cares? Stop playing these stupid games."

"Yeosang."

"Even with the two of us, things went bad. What if you were alone?"

Wooyoung tried to pull his wrist out of Yeosang's grip. Yeosang moved in, knocking his can clean over into Wooyoung's lap. "Shit."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Yeosang pulled a wad of single-ply napkins from the bag, patting the bed dry while Wooyoung soaked up the mess on his pants, moving aside the food and ash tray, putting an early end to his cigarette. Wooyoung took his pants off to soak in the sink for a while and returned to Yeosang stripping the duvet.

"It's a motel bed. It's seen worse."

"Yeah, but we gotta sleep in it." Yeosang laid the duvet on his lap, dabbing at the stain. Wooyoung laid down beside him.

"So your parents. You really want to go back home?"

Yeosang slowed for a moment, then nodded resolutely. "I do."

"I'll take you."

"And you'll stay?" Wooyoung looked at him. "Say you'll stay." Yeosang pushed off the duvet and moved in, resuming the grip on his arm, though soft now.

When Yeosang was awfully close, Wooyoung realized it was for a kiss. Awed, amused, he craned his own neck forward as a signal.

He remembered one of the few conversations they ever had outright about sex. It was shortly after Yeosang lost his virginity to his then girlfriend. Proud, excited, but mostly shy when it came time to actually divulging the dirty details. It always left the impression that he was a bit prudish until he was pushed back, a snap of his head against the headboard. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it kept him alert. The front of his briefs were cupped while Yeosang shifted to straddle his legs.

"I'll make you wanna stay." It had bite to it, at odds with his long since held perception of Yeosang. It made Wooyoung laugh with the nervous humor of it, which clearly annoyed Yeosang further. He wore the irritation well. Sexy. It was weird seeing him in that light.

He thought it was an act, Yeosang playing seductress with the demanding pulling off of Wooyoung's shirt. He’d play along. "How are you going to make me stay?"

Yeosang huffed and kissed him again. Wooyoung kept his hands on a hip and on a thigh to keep Yeosang steady on him while he felt palms and fingers slide down his stomach and over his briefs.

He looked up to eyes focused down and lips parted. Suddenly, it wasn't very funny anymore. His briefs were pulled down and Wooyoung had to come to terms that he actually wanted Yeosang to see his cock, and that Yeosang actually wanted to see it.

When Yeosang leaned away, he thought it was inevitable, like he came to his senses, but he reached into the grocery bag from that morning and pulled out a small bottle of lube.

Wooyoung swallowed, thick and difficult. He really had thought of everything. Yeosang took him in hand, a steely look in his eyes. They didn’t break eye contact. It became a staring contest, even if he hadn’t intended it.

The hand gripped him, lube cold but fingers warm. He didn’t know which of the feelings made him breathe out like that. The hand squeezed, and his eyes rolled back. It’d been too long since he was intimate with someone.

He was looked at like he was constantly being assessed, following along with the gaze’s repetitive trail. “How’s it feel?”

Yeosang already knew the answer. Wooyoung smirked all the same. “Don’t talk right now.” He bit back a laugh when Yeosang returned the smirk.

He looked down and saw that Yeosang was hard. A raise of his own brows in suggestion when he pulled on the waistband, and Yeosang raised up a bit for Wooyoung to nudge them down, grabbing the lube for himself to return the favor.

Connected at the mouth, it felt easier than looking at each other so openly. It felt more exciting, feeling the breath on his mouth whenever he did something that felt good, rocking up to each other's hands, destabilizing for a moment only to fall back into each other. A lot like their friendship, though now the context was a little different.

They were out of napkins after they came, dealing with cum that had dripped from their hands onto various parts of their bodies. They took a quick dip in the shower just to get the grit of it off as they dried.

Wooyoung stepped out first, towelling off beside Yeosang who cut the water. "Don't think you can manipulate me, Kang Yeosang."

"I'm not manipulating you."

"'I'll make you want to stay.'" Wooyoung teased, lowering his voice for his imitation. He flinched and laughed when Yeosang shook his wet hair out at him.

They didn't get dressed again. They kept a mockery of modesty, towels draped loosely around them that kept falling while they stood beside each other in the mirror and looked at themselves. He could see Yeosang looking at him through the mirror.

They dropped the towels all together before leaving the bathroom, laying out in bed in the loosest definition of watching television. Their eyes kept wandering, and it was fun to follow the path and try to guess what Yeosang was looking at on him, what he must have been thinking about at every part.

He didn't keep him guessing, running his hands over the veins on his arms. The phone startled both of them before Wooyoung returned it with a touch of his own.

“Hello? Already? You're a fucking miracle worker. Well, we already paid for one more night, so we'll swing by in the morning." Wooyoung hung up and put a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. "It's done."

"That fast?"

"Yeah. He's good at what he does. Don't really know why he wastes his time out here."

"Hm." Yeosang reached out for his arm again.

"What is it?"

"What?" Yeosang raised his gaze, though his fingers moved across and down onto his chest.

"You look like you have something on your mind."

"Thinking I should pick up a camera at the convenience store," Yeosang mumbled.

Wooyoung almost found himself asking why, but he didn't want to hear it out loud. He didn’t want to ruin Yeosang's fingers swirling slowly on his lower stomach. It made the stir return, thinking about the hand moving to his cock again. "I like that idea. Maybe when one of us grabs dinner."

When Wooyoung started getting hard, Yeosang stroked him again, getting closer by laying his head on his stomach. Wooyoung brushed his hair with his fingers.

It was a lax handjob while they watched TV, Wooyoung unsure if he could even cum again after such a short amount of time. "Hey." He waited for Yeosang's attention. "Let's switch. You lay on your back."

When they switched, Wooyoung lubed them both up. He slid onto Yeosang's stomach, hand wedged between them to grip them both. It was easy to let his head fall forward like that, to kiss Yeosang again. His weight just needed to shift a bit to kiss the underside of the jaw.

They stayed like that for a bit until it got too warm, until his wrist got too tired. He clung to Yeosang's side for a while while they watched TV, lazily stroking each other until they felt peckish and Yeosang got dressed and went out again.

He pulled the camera from one of the bags when he returned. “27 pictures.” He tore into the camera packing before even touching his food, snapping a picture of Wooyoung as he started eating, flash going off. "One."

Wooyoung blinked the flash out of his eyes. "Of all the things to take a picture of?"

Yeosang smirked. "We'll each get at least thirteen. Whatever we want to take a picture of."

"But me eating?"

"That's just what I decided to get a picture of." He handed off the camera to Wooyoung while he got into his food.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and set the camera down.

In bed, a small tower of wrappers and packaging sat between them after they finished eating. Wooyoung reeled the film for the next image, holding the flash button down. He captured the familiar sight of Yeosang cleaning up after him.

Yeosang blinked heavily after the bright flash. He tied the plastic bag and tossed it by the front door. "What are you going to do for the rest of your life, Wooyoung?"

Wooyoung shrugged, laying back in bed. "Just take things day by day."

Yeosang put a hand on his knee. "You don't have to do that on your own, you know."

"Six years," Wooyoung pulled his knee back. "And I never knew you were this persistent."

Yeosang sighed. "Why are you treating it like a joke?"

"I'm not."

"No, you think it's funny, right, that I'm worried about you? It's funny that I care, right?"

Wooyoung stiffened a bit. "I already said that it isn't. Look, if you're so worried about me, then stay with me." Realizing he started raising his voice, he softened a bit. "I gotta be honest, Yeosang, I'm dreading driving you back."

"That's why I'm asking you to come with me. Forget everything we got up to in the last year. We can start over."

"What is there for me if I go back? I'm as good as dead if they find me."

"They're not going to find you," said with argumentative conviction, the kind backed only by will alone.

"You think they don't know about you? You think they haven't paid your parents a visit looking for me? You think they don't know you ran away to follow me? You don't steal from people like that and end up alive." Annoyance hot under his skin, he grabbed Yeosang by the chin and turned the gaze back toward him as it wavered. "Do you understand me? If they see you come back, they're going to tear the city apart looking for me. When they find me, they're going to make me into an example."

The conviction had run out, shaky eyes in its wake. Yeosang was out of his depth on how to respond, Wooyoung knew. It wasn't a victory he wanted.

He released his jaw. "I should've never even let you follow me out to begin with. But I thought, you know, it was nice to not be out there doing it alone. I should've known I'd fuck that up too."

"I wanted to-"

“Yeah, yeah, you thought it’d be fun. I know. You thought you could take a break from being the good kid and try it on for size, and you want to know the truth? I took advantage of you.”

“Wooyoung-”

Even seeing Yeosang slowly growing more frustrated, he couldn't stop himself. “No, no. Let me talk. I knew you didn’t know what the hell you were doing. I knew you’d just trust me and do whatever it was I told you."

“You think I’m fucking stupid, Wooyoung? You think I’ve been this dumb dog running after you this whole time waiting for the next command and now I'm trying to run away? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, honest to God, you’re the smartest guy I know." He tapped the duvet, finding it hard to keep up the eye contact. "But you're naive."

“You got a lot of fucking nerve.” Yeosang prodded into Wooyoung’s chest. “You think I dropped everything on a whim just for fun? Fuck, I was worried about you. You know, I thought- I thought I could look out for you. And then eventually, you know, you’d want to stop doing this shit and I could help you get back on track. This should be a fucking wake up call, Wooyoung. You can’t fuck up this bad a third time."

"If I go back, that's my third shot right there. Gone." His hair hadn't even been getting into his face, but it felt good to do something with his hands and push it back. "I should've never let you come out with me."

“Oh, fuck you." It was with minimal vitriol. Yeosang just sounded tired. When Wooyoung looked up again, it was that stomach-sinking look of disappointment that did him in.

"I need a shower." 

He locked the door. He meant for it to be a long shower, hoping it'd go uninterrupted. It felt like five minutes had passed before the door handle was tested.

"C'mon, Wooyoung. Please let me in." That soft please did it, that sinking feeling pulling tight on his throat. He swallowed back, hoping he'd be able to blink back any tears.

He stepped out and got water everywhere. He caught himself in the foggy mirror. He didn't like looking so pitiful. He unlocked the door, Yeosang on the other side had dressed down to his tee-shirt and briefs again. He gave him a look that was dripping with concern, and Wooyoung hated it.

He pulled Wooyoung in, sopping mop of hair soaking the shoulder of his shirt. “What would it take to get you to come back with me?"

"I'm done letting you put your life on hold for me."

Then Yeosang breathed, though in evident frustration. "If something happens to you," though he never finished. He held Wooyoung a little tighter.

He felt like he was being babied, helped to dry off and brought out into the bed again. His head cradled while he got through the worst of his crying fit, and he felt embarrassed and childish, but Yeosang never made it seem like he was a burden.

Then quiet, only breaths above the hiss of the television. Lips pressed to his forehead, then both of his cheeks. Wooyoung laughed. Not because it was funny, but because he was overwhelmed. He leaned in, pressing a kiss soft to Yeosang's mouth.

"You drive me up a wall, Jung Wooyoung."

Wooyoung always loved those words, and maybe Yeosang knew that. "How long have you wanted to do all of this, anyway?"

"When you told me you were going to leave the city after you told me what you did."

"Oh yeah?" He laid his head on Yeosang's arm. "Because how I remember it is you calling me a moron and telling me you were going to kill me yourself."

Yeosang reached for the camera on the nightstand, testing to see if the film had been reeled. "I still feel that way." He held the flash, pulled his arm back and got a picture of the two of them. "That's three."

Wooyoung was given the camera. "Say it," he prompted, moving onto the next section of film.

Yeosang paused and looked at him crooked. "You're a moron and I'm going to kill you myself?"

Wooyoung laughed, leaned in for a quick kiss on the mouth that he got on camera. "Say you love me."

Yeosang made a face, pushing back on Wooyoung’s forehead, laying back in bed. “God, I hate you." He snatched the camera from Wooyoung's hand, turning it to its portrait orientation, making him realize he was getting most of his naked body in shot.

"Whoever's going to develop these will be in for a surprise." He expected the camera to be handed off, but Yeosang set it down in his lap before reaching out for the lube. Wooyoung's cock perked up a bit preemptively, eager for the hand to squeeze him.

When he was hard enough, Yeosang wrapped a hand firm around the shaft and got a picture like that. 

When Wooyoung reached for the lube, Yeosang stopped him.

"Let me try something first."

Wooyoung recognized exactly at what point Yeosang was going to suck his cock, pushing apart his knees to kneel between them. He took back the camera to get the picture of the more suggestive image first, of Yeosang looking at his cock.

Yeosang smiled at him when the flash went off, his ears flushed a little. He shook his head like he was arguing with himself. Then he leaned forward a little further, an awkward closing of his mouth over the head of Wooyoung’s cock. He felt the tongue move under him, not deliberate, just getting comfortable with the feeling of it in his mouth. This time, Yeosang gave a hindered half-smile when Wooyoung raised the camera again for the eighth photo.

He dropped the smile when he swallowed around him, lips gone tight to suck lightly. Hand up, threaded fingers through Yeosang’s hair. He tried not to push down on the scalp, but he found the heel of his palm pushing to get in deeper. He felt the throat around him, opening and constricting down again, swallowing Wooyoung back.

“It’s great,” he said in a labored exhale. Yeosang seemed to find it amusing if the narrowing of his eyes was anything to go off of.

He came in his mouth. He didn’t mean to, at least not without warning, but it just felt so good. Yeosang was surprised, made a grumble in the back of his throat, but he swallowed back and coughed. “Warning would’ve been nice,” he sounded gravelly.

“Sorry. I’ll swallow, how about that?”

He softened a touch at that, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “You don’t have to return the favor, you know. I don’t expect you to.”

“I want to.” He put the camera into Yeosang’s hands. “Plus, I feel like I’d look good doing it.”

Any sentiment the former statement drummed up had been lessened by the latter. Still, it was always worth it to see Yeosang’s eyes roll like that. He laid back, reeling the film. “I’ll do my best to get your good angle, then.”

Somehow, Wooyoung couldn’t think of more touching words if he tried. He laid between Yeosang’s thighs, leaning up on his elbows. One hand held Yeosang by the base of the cock, the other gave a peace sign. He held the pose until the picture was taken.

He gave up on the vanity after that, pushing his hair back and dipping his tongue out. He got a sense for what the skin felt like, what it tasted like before closing his entire mouth on it and feeling a satisfying twitch after a flick of his tongue.

Yeosang let out a heavy breath as added encouragement. He was slow to reel the film, clearly distracted, but he eventually managed a shot of Wooyoung sucking him off.

He adjusted, mindful of the way his throat opened to take him back. It irritated him a bit, he swallowed despite himself and that prompted a grunt of a moan from Yeosang. He said something, it sounded garbled and rushed, but Wooyoung knew it was a compliment of some kind by the way the thumb rubbed up the back of his neck and started stroking his hairline.

“I’m gonna cum.” Wooyoung managed to parse that, giving Yeosang a ready nod even if he couldn’t tell if the other was really paying attention or not with struggling breaths of his own. It was hot. It felt hotter in his mouth than it did on his hand. He swallowed, but with Yeosang’s cock still in his mouth he let out another grunt when he did. “Fuck.”

Wooyoung pulled his mouth off, smiling. “That good?” To another one of Yeosang’s hard stares, he puckered his lips, humming out and waiting until he gave in and kissed him on the mouth.

They brought the camera into the bathroom when they brushed their teeth. Wooyoung made sure to get a portrait shot of Yeosang, hoping he’d be framed by the doorway. Maybe it’d be a little crooked, but he’d find out when they got the prints later.

They laid out in bed again, not even bothering to raise the volume on the TV. They passed the camera back and forth between them, thinking up shots they wanted to take. Wooyoung got one of Yeosang’s face after he said something particularly obnoxious. At one point, Yeosang got one of Wooyoung laughing.

They couldn’t decide who’d get the 27th photo, though, and they placed the camera back on the nightstand so they could sort it out later. Otherwise, Wooyoung was exhausted, his dick a bit sore from all the activity. He was content to let his head fall partially on Yeosang’s chest. 

Without a distraction, he dreaded the next morning. He thought about begging, both hands clasped together before him while he rolled onto his knees for Yeosang to stay, to run away together again. Maybe Yeosang would be moved enough by the display that he’d want to enable Wooyoung’s selfish tendencies for just a little longer. He fantasized a lifetime in a matter of moments.

Yeosang stroked his hair, also silent and thoughtful.

In the end, neither said anything before falling asleep. Whether Wooyoung would regret that, only time would tell.

At some hour when the room was still dark, Wooyoung was awakened by a touch on his arm. He thought he was being awakened, but it was a light stroke, deliberate and repetitive. Yeosang thought he was asleep. 

He didn’t have to wonder what Yeosang was thinking. He was sure they had the same thing on their mind.

Eventually, he’d fallen back asleep, a blink where night had become a dim morning with the blackout curtains. 

They gathered all the trash they could to the best of their ability, stuffing it into the large garbage bin outside before completing their checkout and handing in their keys.

When Hongjoong greeted them, initially cheerful, his brows knitted the moment he got a closer look at them. “You guys look like hell.”

Wooyoung and Yeosang exchanged knowing glances.

Hongjoong showed them the car, displaying the work done on the front seats first before he showed them the newly spotless trunk. “What do you think?”

“It’s great,” Wooyoung said. He knew by the way Hongjoong looked at him for a time that he sounded a little off. “It really is great. I’m just tired.”

“I get it. It’s been a rough couple of days.” When Hongjoong handed the keys off, he pulled Wooyoung in for a brief hug. “Be safe out there.” He waved Yeosang in for one afterward. “A friend of Wooyoung is a friend of mine. C’mere.” The hug he had with Yeosang was a little more awkward.

Yeosang perked up suddenly. “I know it’s weird. We bought a camera, and we’re down to the last photo. Can you take a picture of us?” He’d already taken the camera out of his pocket and offered it up.

Hongjoong chuckled at that, taking the camera. “A commemorative photo? You guys have a weird idea of making memories.” He gestured for Wooyoung and Yeosang to stand closer together, looking through the viewfinder. “Come on, shoulders back, stand up straight. Smile.” He charged up the flash. “There you go, you guys look good together.” The flash went off, the last photo taken.

A round of goodbyes and thank yous, then Wooyoung got into the driver’s seat and Yeosang in the passenger's seat.

He looked over at Yeosang after putting the keys in the ignition switch. “You ready?”

Yeosang looked back. “Yeah.”

They stared for a moment, then Wooyoung nodded and started the car.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhh happy thanksgiving?
> 
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